


A new kind of addiction

by KendraPendragon



Series: My tumblr writing [23]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 10:25:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16157144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KendraPendragon/pseuds/KendraPendragon
Summary: The morning after. Sherlock reflects.





	A new kind of addiction

The warm cup of coffee felt good in his hand as he stood by the window watching the countless rain drops roll down the glass. He had tried to count them several times, when boredom was nagging on his mind and his skin felt itchy. But he had never succeeded, for the drops were cheating. They united with others on their way down the glass, making one out of two. 

Making one out of two…

He gripped the cup harder, the sting of the heat distracting him from the other unwanted sensations of his body. But too soon his skin had acclimatised and the heat turned into pleasant warmth once again; a warmth he felt all over. But this - he gulped - heart-filling warmth came from another source. 

After eight years of live and let live, of friendship, of trust and companionship, Sherlock had altered his and Molly Hooper’s relationship once again.   
Last night he had changed both their lives.   
His for the better…hers for the worse, most probably. 

Sherlock wanted to close his eyes. But then he would only notice her taste on his tongue, or her scent lingering on his skin and in his hair; this heavenly smell of honey. He still had no idea why her confession that she used a honey scented body butter had made him jump her bones, but there they were.   
Now he knew the way she kissed, how strong her delicate hands could be, how incredibly soft her skin was, especially on the insides of her thighs and on her neck; this wonderful long neck, so perfect for teasing.   
Now he knew every ticklish spot (neck, sides, the hollows of her knees, her ankles). He knew the noises she made when she was lost in pleasure and passion; every little sigh, every rewarding moan.   
Sherlock had learned how bendy she was, how mischievious her smile could be, leading up to the most enticing little whispers. Molly Hooper was shameless and so goddamn sexy in her lovemaking; when she was writhing under him or rolling her hips on top of him. She was just as curious and precise as he was and her anatomical knowledge had made him lose control more than once. 

Losing control…

The one thing he feared and craved the most. Drugs had been one way to achieve it. Molly Hooper was another. 

She had made it so easy. Once she had relaxed into him and had answered his clumsy out-of-the-blue kiss, letting go had been the easiest thing to do.   
Even though he hated himself for thinking in such daft romantic terms, but in her arms, he had been free.   
For eight hours, it had just been him. The most vulnerable, the most bare he had ever been, feeling safe and happy. 

Happy…

That’s what this warm feeling in his chest and belly was, Sherlock realized. He was truly happy. And relaxed. More relaxed than in years.   
To be fair, this had less to do with Molly but more with the three no four orgasms he had last night.   
Well, she had been a big part in them, bless her.

But still, it wasn’t enough. 

Sherlock clenched his jaw. This most familiar tingling in the back of his head was telling him that he was about to form a completely new kind of addiction. And he was afraid. 

This  _addiction_ …it could break his heart.

Now that he had allowed to feel all these feelings, he didn’t know how to shut them out again. 

He was in love. 

God, he was so much in love with her. 

And he would never not be… 

He had doomed himself. 

Because one day he would ruin this. One day she would realise what a wreck he was. Or he would just break her heart, which was even more likely. And then she would never look at him again like she had last night and it would kill him…

“Sherlock, could you help me with the zipper?”

Now he did close his eyes, her voice bringing back the memories of their love-making, causing him to shiver. 

Clearing his throat he turned around and placed the mug on the coffee table. 

When he straightened, she had already turned around, her long hair brushed to one side, revealing her long neck. She smiled at him and something in his belly fluttered. 

Trying to focus, he took the zipper of her white summer dress and pulled it up, the soft skin of her bare back lingering on his lips. 

“Thank you” she said and was about to step away. 

_Wrong_. 

His arms closed around her and he pulled her against his bare chest. He was only wearing his black trousers. 

“Don’t go”, he heard himself whisper as he buried his face in her neck, breathing her scent, the honey replaced with his shower gel, the skin still incredibly soft, warm and alluring his mouth to feel and taste it. 

Molly wrapped her arms around his. 

“I have to feed Toby. I can’t let him go with no food all day…hmm, that’s nice.”

He pressed another kiss on the sweet spot right below her jaw. 

God, what the hell was wrong with him, he thought while he pulled her closer, clinging to her like some lovesick teenage boy. 

Why was the thought of her leaving so dreadful? 

_Illogical! Pathetic!  
_

“You could come with me, if you like. I could cook something. Or we could order in. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

“Okay.”

Wait, what?

Did he just agree to leave Baker Street to go to her tiny place with the cat that had scratched him thirteen times and had peed on him once?

The way he followed her into the hallway proved it. 

Molly giggled. 

“Sherlock, don’t you want to put on a shirt, first?”

“No.”

He slipped into his coat and into his shoes. 

“I’ll put on your dad’s sweater once we’re home.”

Molly blushed. He didn’t understand why.

“You really like that sweater, don’t you?”

“I like the way you look at me when I’m wearing it,” he openly admitted. 

A shy smile formed on her lips. 

“I love you.”

His heart clenched and his skin tingled. He wanted to take her into his arms. And he wanted to kiss her so bad. 

He really was doomed. 

She laughed. 

“Don’t panic. You showed me last night. Three times.”

His lips twitched.

“Four.”

“Well, the first time didn’t really count, wouldn’t you say?”

He thought about it. Heat crept up his cheeks. 

“Maybe we could try again later?” she suggested. 

Now he smiled.

“Absolutely.”

“But first I have to feed Toby, so no surprise kissing attacks until the cat is eating, okay?”

“You’re going to reproach me with that forever, won’t you?” he asked as they walked down the stairs. 

“Probably not forever,” they stepped outside and Sherlock opened his umbrella, “but certainly for a while.”

She grinned up at him, standing so close, both of them surrounded by the music and the fresh scent of falling rain, and Sherlock vowed to himself to do anything possible to ensure she would look at him like this for the rest of their lives. 

He thought wrapping his free arm around her and pulling her in for a very deep, very tender kiss was a good start. 

Molly approved with a sigh. 


End file.
